


Cogs and Gears

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [138]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, Steampunk, nominally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 23:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drst asked for Felicity Smoak: steampunk AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cogs and Gears

Felicity drew her hood over her blonde hair and kept her eyes down as she moved through the marketplace. With her basket and her old, worn shoes, she looked like just another young and tired wife collecting things for supper.

But she was no man’s wife. And she was on a mission.

Past the cheesemonger, she turned right suddenly, darting smoothly down a narrow, stinking alleyway. Her heart was racing, but she kept her steps even. The sound of running tended to attract vultures in this part of town.

A quick rap of her knuckles in the pattern she had learned as a little girl saw the wooden door at the end of the alley open just enough for a paper-wrapped parcel to be dropped into her basket. It was about the size of a loaf of bread, but Felicity needed both hands on the handle to keep her basket up - it weighed more than it looked. A lot more.

Felicity didn’t try to see the face behind the door. She just turned and headed back up the alley, following the twisting maze of brick and cobble back towards the noise of the evening market.

“Hey girly,” a gruff voice called out of the shadows, and Felicity’s hands tightened on the handle of her basket. “Did you bring us dinner?”

Another voice rumbled a harsh laugh, from the other side of the alley. Ahead of her, a shadow moved, a skinny, tall fellow melting into being in front of her. She whipped around, cloak flying, but two more were already behind her.

If they saw what was in the package, it was over – the police had a standing reward for any information about the black market trade in gear and technology. What was in her basket could see her sent away for life.

Or cost her her life. She gripped the handle tighter, ready to swing.

The men swaggered closer.

Her heart was pounding in her chest.

A feather-light noise zipped past her ear, and the bigger of the two men tumbled backwards with a grunt of shock. He collapsed against some crates stacked against the wall, blood already soaking into his stained vest.

There was a moment of silence. Then a figure dropped from the guttering above them, a long bow in hand already drawn taut and aimed at the second man.

Felicity heard footsteps, running, and she turned instinctively, swinging her basket at the end of outstretched arms.

Wicker and dense metal met skull with a loud crack and a thud. The skinny fell dropped to the cobbles, insensate.

Felicity looked up, already jumping back, aching arms bringing up her basket again. But the others hand gone; only the man with the bow was there, but the arrow was back in the quiver, and he was watching her without menace. “Thanks,” Felicity managed, only a slight quaver in her voice. “For the assist.”

The man cocked his head. In the gloom, Felicity could make out details of the man’s costume. “Wait, is that an explosive grapple?” Without thinking, she took a step forward for a closer look. “You don’t have a safety on that, and you wear it on your chest?”

The man looked down, as if seeing his own gear for the first time. “It seems safe.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Heavens help…here, give it to me.” She held out her hand, snapping her fingers when he didn’t move. “Meet me by the bridge next to the Horse Inn tomorrow, this time. I’ll fix it for you.” Still the man didn’t move. “Consider it payment for the save.”

“I don’t need payment,” the man’s voice was softer than she expected.

“And I normally don’t need saving. Guess it’s opposites evening.” She made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with her fingers.

The man paused, then unhooked the grapple pack and dropped it into her outstretched hand. “Until tomorrow, my lady.” Three bounding steps, and the man leapt off the crates and disappeared into the night.

Felicity dropped the grapple into her basket, covering it with her handkerchief. Moving lightly, she stepped back into the market and headed for home.

She had a lot of engineering to do if she was to make the rendezvous tomorrow night.


End file.
